


your small shoulders, your small hands

by thatgoodgood (reloadeds)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, like a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 20:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reloadeds/pseuds/thatgoodgood
Summary: I want to warmly hold you without any space left.





	your small shoulders, your small hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theflyjar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflyjar/gifts).



> this is dedicated to my beloved waipo for her birthday; I realize this is precisely one year late, but it’s the thought that counts. I hope this made you feel something akin to warmth inside, because you deserve (a SONG) all that I, a mere stalk of chinese cabbage, can offer you. I hope you choose to continue to be the buttercup to my bubbles and the yifan to my luhan for all the time to pass. thanks for being there for me for everything, you giant baby. I love you more than words will allow me to express. so, have this instead.
> 
> (to the general public: please don’t take any of this seriously.)  
> (title and inspiration taken from jonghyun’s end of a day, because this fic needed the blessing of an angel.)

_I couldn’t believe it. My eyes grew to the size of two golf balls that fell off of their tees. My tongue fell to the floor and I was about to roll over like a dog. There he was! School basketball captain (and total HUNK) Wu Yifan, in the living flesh. The Chinese daddy-cake of my wildest (and wettest) dreams. I could feel my pants growing tighter as my balls inflated to the size of grapefruits. He was coming down the hall. I was so nervous because he was coming towards me? Everyone was moving against the walls so that they wouldn’t be in the way of his total sexiness. Girls were fainting. A bra was thrown at him as he walked. People were screaming “OPPA!” But he was still coming towards me! I kept thinking, OMG! WUFAN IS STARING AT ME! WHY IS HE STARING AT ME?!!? I’m the total loser of the school! I’m the music nerd that has no friends and is bullied because I wear glasses and I have a dimple. They make fun of me and say that my dimple is bigger than the moon. What would a Chinese Adonis like Wu Yifan want to do with me? He’s so tall, his legs go on for miles, he has eyes that I always get lost in. I swear the sun was in his eyes. And he literally SCREAMS sex. Like, if sex were a cologne, they’d have to model it after his armpit sweat.  
_

_I didn’t even realize that he had approached me until his nose was nearly touching mine. His eyes bore into my soul. I could feel his hot breath on my lips. He looked so broody, I felt my underwear becoming completely soaked with precum.  
_

__

_I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Ni-ni hao.”  
_

__

_He smirked sexily. He said in a sexy tone with lust filled eyes: “Hello. We are going to fuck now.”  
_

__

_Before I could even reply, Yifan dragged me by the wrist and threw me against the lockers in the locker room (how did we even get there so fast?!) in a dominant way. He pressed me up against them and licked my ear sexily while growling like a tiger let out of his cage.  
_

__

_I moaned like a bitch in heat. I was so turned on like a lightbulb. “Daddy…please fuck m-”  
_

“-Xing-ah. Yixing, please,” Yifan implores, elongating and softening the ends of his syllables in an attempt to make himself appear more pitiful. With a hastened sigh, he, once again, throws himself toward the other end of the couch, where his phone lies dangerously in the clutches of someone that was not him, but his effort is ultimately deterred by a heel being jabbed into his sternum with more force than Yifan had prepared for. Yifan immediately sits back up on his knees, rubbing his ribs with his fingertips as he tries to retrieve some of the air that had been knocked out of his lungs with the blow.  


The owner of the assailing foot continues to cackle as he lies across the length of the couch. He’s amused to the point where he’s almost giddy, letting out flurries of airy chuckles, ones make the ends of his lips crinkle up as the echoes bounce around the walls of room. Yifan also thinks the laugher makes the other man’s eyes glisten, but that’s a spare thought he files away with a shake of the head.  


“Yixing, give me my phone back. This isn’t funny.”  


“It’s pretty funny to me,” Yixing counters, adding teasing dips to his voice that almost make Yifan want to coo. _Almost._  


Yifan continues to rub at his chest. “What are you even getting out of this anyway?”  


“It’s interesting seeing what people come up with,” Yixing reasons, calmly thumbing away at the glass. He stretches his legs and crosses them at the ankles. “I didn’t realize the fanxing tag was still this popular.”  


Yifan merely shrugs. “People hold what they believe dearly to their hearts, I guess.”  


Yixing hums softly in response, eyes staying trained on the screen of Yifan’s phone. He remains silent for the next few minutes, the ends of his mouth turning up into a smirk every now and then when he reads something particularly provoking. Yifan sighs in resignation, taking this time to admire his boyfriend’s slender physique relaxed against the white leather of the hotel couch. Half-mindedly, he grabs hold of each of Yixing’s ankles in his hands and begins to massage circles into the joint with his thumbs, as if to remind Yixing of his presence, and to remind himself that Yixing is, indeed, with him in that moment. A comfortable stillness resides around them as their breathing settles into a natural, unhurried rhythm.  


Yixing eventually breaks the silence with a quiet snort. Yifan raises his eyebrows. “What?”  


“I just can’t imagine Luhan pillaging the fanxing tag to find this,” Yixing mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. “Doesn’t he have better things to do?”  


“Is that even a question?” Yifan mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Slowly and softly, he eases across the length of the couch, placing his palms on either side of Yixing before lowering himself on top of him, their bodies in contact and exchanging warmth with each other. Yixing lets out a gentle sigh, allowing himself to relax further into Yifan, as if he were some sort of blanket made to wrap around his form perfectly.  


Yifan chuckles lightly. “He could have made a habit of reading this stuff in his free time, for all I know.” He nuzzles into Yixing’s neck, leaving the trace of a kiss on his collarbone. The cottony scent of his shampoo kindly wafts into Yixing’s nostrils, easing out the last of any tension Yixing held in his tired muscles.  


Yet, despite the serenity that washes over his body, Yixing can’t help the playful grin that sneaks onto his face. “You think he eagerly reads about _Yifan-baba_ fucking him against the wall of a locker room shower?”  


Yifan muffles his impending snort with another kiss pressed to the skin of Yixing’s neck, this one only a bit harder than the first. He then moves to hover over Yixing’s slightly parted lips, his own easing into a gentle smile.  


“Well, you wouldn’t mind that at all, now wouldn’t you?”  


Yifan expects a hit to his bicep or a blow to his shin from below, especially as he watches a flash of tinted embarrassment briefly run over Yixing’s countenance, but to his surprise, he’s met instead with a press of soft lips to his own, and suddenly Yifan feels like the one being wrapped in the warmth of the other’s presence.  


When Yixing pulls back, Yifan is faced with a smile so bright that it challenges the bubbling sensation he feels in his chest.  


"Now, can we get back to that movie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (there is, in fact, a part two; I hope to get it posted later today.)  
> (please note this was unedited it's 02:47 and I have class tomorrow)  
> (also there really is no plot to this we're just gonna roll with it)


End file.
